CHAPTER XVII.
The sun had got low, in fact, he was dipping behind the dark line ofEagle Hill; and everybody looked and watched. The bright ball of fierygold disappeared, leaving a trail of glory; lights glowed againstshadows on the hazy hill shore; little flecks of cloud in the west grewgorgeous, and a low-lying rack of vapour in the south-east took on theloveliest changes of warm browns and purples and greys. And as the sungot further below the horizon, the cloud scenery became but the moreresplendent.
"Mr. Murray," Flora began, "you will think I am always takingobjections."
"Well, Miss Flora--what now?"
"Please to criticise this story Ditto has been reading. I would ratheryou did it than I."
"By 'criticise' you mean, find fault?"
"If you see reason."
"Suppose I do not see reason?"
"But do you not, really?"
"Wherein?"
"Mr. Murray, I like things kept to their proper places."
"We are agreed there."
"And I think it is a pity to make religious observances, or what aremeant for them, repelling and disgusting to other people."
"Certainly. As how, for instance, Miss Flora?"
"Well, I never like to see people--I _have_ seen it--make a show ofpraying at table, where no general blessing has been asked by the personat the head of the table or a minister. It just makes them conspicuous,and as good as says that they are the only right people there."
"That is not a pleasant impression to receive."
"No, and I did not receive it. I thought it was a mistake. And quiteill-bred."
"But perhaps those people felt that they wanted a particular blessing,where there was no general blessing asked as you say."
"They might ask for it quietly, secretly."
"Yes. Would they get it?"
"Why, Mr. Murray! Doesn't the Lord always hear prayer?"
"No. It is written--'He that turneth away his ear from hearing the law,even his prayer shall be abomination.'"
"But what law is there about saying grace at meals, in public?"
"There is this, Miss Flora. 'Whosoever shall confess Me before men, himwill I also confess'"----
"But everywhere, Mr. Murray? Must we be confessing _everywhere_?"
"What places would you make the exception?"
Flora was silent.
"Public places in general?"
Still Flora was silent.
"Allow me to ask--Do you approve of the custom anywhere of asking ablessing upon our meat?"
"Certainly--in one's own house. Papa did it always. Meredith does it."
"Then, Miss Flora, if it is a right thing to do at home, how is it not aright thing to do abroad?"
"Everywhere, Mr. Murray? Would you do it in a restaurant?"
"If it is a right thing to do, Miss Flora?--why not in a restaurant?"
"Or in somebody else's house perhaps, where it is not the custom?"
"Why not?"
"Why it seems to me like a sort of preaching to people; like saying tothem that you are better than they are; setting one's self up."
"Pardon me--how can it be setting myself up, to thank my Father inheaven for what He has given me, and to ask Him to let me have also ablessing with it?"
"Why couldn't you do it quietly?"
"I should always in such places do it quietly; not aloud."
"But I mean--without letting anybody know it?"
"Why should not people know it?"
"Excuse me, Mr. Murray; but I always think it is making a show--making apretence."
"If it is a pretence, the worse for me, whether at home or abroad. But a_show_ I want it to be, Miss Flora; a show that I am a child of God, andlove to own my Father's hand everywhere."
"You are very good to let me talk just what I think, without beingoffended," said Flora. "You will not think me rude, Mr. Murray? I reallywant to know your opinions. Don't you think that in such things there isa tacit implied reproof of the other persons present who do not as youdo?"
"How can I help that?"
"But is that polite?"
"That question sinks before the other--Is it duty?"
"I cannot see it to be duty," said Flora.
"I have always been a little confused about it," said Meredith; "in suchcases and places, I mean."
"It makes one very disagreeably singular," Flora added.
"It is impossible to follow Christ fully, Miss Flora, and not be thatmore or less."
"_Disagreeably_ singular, Mr. Murray?"
"I agree with you, I am sure, in thinking that it is disagreeable to besingular."
"But must one? I always thought it was such bad taste."
"You perceive it is not a question of taste."
"Why then of necessity?"
"Because whoever follows the Lord fully will live in a way the veryopposite of that which is followed by the world. He will be marked outfrom it--even as the Lord was Himself."
"Still, one is not to make one's self unnecessarily odd," said Meredith;"and I have until now been in doubt whether people did not do it inthis very matter of asking a blessing at tables where nobody elsefollowed the practice."
"I am sure it is not unnecessary," said Mr. Murray. "I am sure thatthought is a temptation of the enemy. I am sure that the simple fact ofhaving, though in so small a matter, shown one's colours and confessedChrist, is a help all through the day to go on confessing Him, asoccasion may serve."
Silence fell after this, and some of the party noticed how the sky andclouds were changing. The sun had sunk below the actual horizon now;long since he had dipped behind Eagle Hill; and the gold and the purplewere fading from the racks of vapour which had caught and given thecolours so brilliantly. Pale purple, pale fawn, ashes of roses, thensoft greys succeeded one another. The eastern hills had lost theirlight; the shadows were gone, night was softly letting her mantle fallon the world. Still the little party sat on the rock, and looked, andfelt the soft breath of the air, and watched the fading glory. Nobodywanted to move, and twilight would last long enough to let them gethome; and so they waited. Fenton, I suppose, had gone home, for theyheard the rustle of his footsteps no longer. By and by, as they watchedthe grey strips of vapour which had been so brilliant a little whileago, they began to change again. The greys took on a purplish warm hue,which brightened and brightened, and then pure carmine began to touchthe soft under folds and edges of the clouds, increasing in vividness,until over all the sky every speck and mass of vapour was glowing inbrilliant crimson. For a few minutes this; and then it too faded, andrapidly the crimson sank to purple and the purple back to grey, and allknew that the reign of night and shades would be broken no more till thesun rising. Slowly the little party got up from the rock; unwillinglythey turned their backs upon it; lingeringly they left the place whichhad been so pleasant, and took their way down the hill through thegathering dusk. The walk was still very pretty; Maggie held her uncle'shand, the others clustered round, and they went running and skippingtill the level land was reached, then slowly again, as if loath to havethe evening quite come to an end.
It was pleasure of another sort to gather round the tea-table, brightwith lights and covered with good things.
"I do not think," Meredith observed, "that I ever enjoyed more in oneday."
"Lucky for you!" said Fenton. "I don't see the use of having Sundays,for my part."
"How can you help having them?" said Maggie. "They must come, just likeSaturdays, or Mondays."
"That's deep!" said Fenton. "But if they must come, as you haveoriginally discovered, why can't one use them reasonably."
"As how?" said Mr. Murray, preventing an eager outbreak of Maggie's.
"Like other days. Why shouldn't I fish, for instance? or shootpartridges? The fish don't know the difference. Why should one mope onone particular day?"
"I never do," said his uncle. "I am sorry you have such a bad taste."
"As what, sir?" (fiercely).
"As to mope."
"How's a fellow to do anything else?"
"Depends on himself."
"Well, what's the use of my not fishing? Why shouldn't I fish onSunday?"
"Don't you know?"
"No, I don't," said Fenton. "That's just it. If I knew any good reason,of course it would be different." And he sagely muttered something about"priestcraft."
"There are two reasons," said Mr. Murray calmly, while Maggie flushed upand even Esther stared at her brother.
"I never knew any," responded Fenton.
"Do you care to know them?"
"If they _are_ reasons," Fenton rejoined impudently, "it would beunreasonable not to care."
"Very true," said Mr. Murray smiling. "I will begin with the lesser ofthe two. It is found in the nature of man, Fenton. Man is soconstituted that he cannot, year in and year out, stand a seven days'strain. Neither brain nor muscle will bear it. That has been tested andproved. In the long run, man cannot do as much working seven days, as hecan do working only six days."
Fenton knew that what his uncle gave as a fact was likely to be a fact;he had no answer ready at first. Then he said, "I spoke of fishing, sir;that is play, not work."
"As you do it, I suppose it is. But we are talking of the fact of oneday in seven being set apart from the rest, and the reasons. You see onereason."
"What's the other?"
"The other is still more difficult to deal with. It consists inthis--that God says the day is His. As Ruler and King of the world, Helays His hand upon that seventh day and says, This is mine."
"I don't see any reason in that," said Fenton.
"No. But you see the claim and the command. Those must be met, ordisobeyed at our peril."
"What's the use?"
"One great use is, to remember and acknowledge that God _is_ Ruler andOwner of all. So when we cross the boundary between Saturday and Sunday,we step over on ground that is not ours."
"There is no good in being stiff and pokey," said Fenton.
"No. It is only a stranger on the ground who can be that. One who knowsthe Lord and loves Him is specially at home and free on the Lord's day."
"But I thought the Jewish Sabbath was done away?" said Flora.
"The formal Jewish Sabbath. But not the spiritual. If you study thematter, you will see that Christ made careful exceptions to the literalrule in only three cases--where mercy, or necessity, or God's servicedemand that it shall be broken."
"Don't you think a farmer ought to get in his hay on Sunday, sir, if hesaw a storm coming up?" Fenton asked.
"I dare not make any other exceptions than the Lord made," his uncleanswered.
"Don't you think trains ought to run on Sunday, Mr. Murray?" said Flora.
"I must say the same thing to you, Miss Flora."
"But in cases of sickness and accident, sir?"
"Have you the notion that Sunday trains are filled with persons who havebeen summoned somewhere by telegraph?"
"No--but there are such cases."
"Yes; well. Do you think, honestly, that thousands of people ought tobreak the Lord's rule every Sunday, in order to give relief here andthere to the anxiety of one?"
"I can tell you," Fenton broke out, "your doctrine is furiouslyunfashionable. There is not a fellow in our school that doesn't do as hehas a mind to on Sunday."
"Other days too, I suppose."
"Of course."
"That is just what, in your sense, a Christian gives up; not on Sundaymore than on other days. That is the difference between a Christian andanother man; one does his own will and the other the will of God, whichis also his own."
Fenton muttered something to Esther, who sat next him, about an "oldfoggy," but the subject of conversation was carried no further. Mr.Murray purposely changed it, and the evening passed in very pleasanttalk, alternating with some Bible reading. Only, towards the close ofthe evening Fenton started the question, "where they would go the nextday?"
"Suppose we leave that for Monday to take care of," Mr. Murray answered.
"But, sir, there might be some arrangements to make."
"To-night?"
"Perhaps; but at any rate I might want to give some orders in themorning."
"I don't think we should have a good time, if we consulted about itnow."
"Why not, sir?"
"You forget. It is the Lord's time. And if we want Him to give us Hisfavour on our expedition, it seems to me we had better not offend Himabout it beforehand."
"But, sir!"----
"But, Mr. Murray!" put in Flora. "Just to _speak_ about things?"
"Time enough to-morrow, Miss Flora. And this is the Lord's time, youknow."
"But just _talking_--not doing anything?"
"Doing a good deal in imagination. What's the difference? Study thefifty-eighth chapter of Isaiah, the last two verses. Sir Matthew Halegave it as his testimony, that he found business concocted on Sunday didnot run off well in the week. No, we will leave the question tillto-morrow at breakfast, if you please."
"I can't understand it!" said Flora, as she went upstairs.
"Study those verses in Isaiah," said Meredith, who overheard her.
Pine Needles Page 17